


Coffee Stains

by clannadsafterstory



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Artist AU? I guess, Barista AU, Grieving, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, One Shot, sad levi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-12
Updated: 2015-02-12
Packaged: 2018-03-12 00:55:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3338141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clannadsafterstory/pseuds/clannadsafterstory
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>His eyes, his nose, his mouth all sketched out on fragile pieces of paper came together with memories of Sunday dinners and walks down the sand dunes as the sun rose. Piece by piece drawings came together messy,rushed and wrong</p><p>Levi finally comes to terms with his boyfriend's death.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Coffee Stains

His brittle, calloused fingers covered once with paint but replaced long ago with coffee stains and mug shaped scolds tapped an inconsistent, almost impatient but strong beat against the workbench that was as spotless as the day it was installed. The man was known for his unnerving glare, which froze customers in their footsteps but, strangely, the built blonde haired owner never seemed to mind as the small icy man never asked, complained nor cared about working the late shifts no one else seemed to want.

 

Few broken and torn chairs placed around small rigid tables rarely encouraged strangers to stay more time than was needed to finish whatever sugar ridden snack they had received leaving the man alone with his thoughts. They made the man’s teeth ache at the thought.

 

This evening was different from no other, for him, the cold nightshift was the only thing he knew would never change as long as he didn’t either.

 

As the evening lost its pink monotone colour and faded into darkness the silent buzz of the coffee machine did as well. Suddenly the constant stream of hurried figures outside stopped leaving nothing but the man, his thoughts and the restless ocean separated by only a broken door connected to a rough gravel path.

 

He stopped, glaring out the window mindlessly toying with anything in his reach, suddenly stopping and peering down to see a pencil, bright red and black stripes covering its form. Skeleton like fingers grasped the pencil harshly, rolling it back and forth and back and forth before settling it between his thumb and finger like it was second nature. Thoughts and memories were overwhelming suddenly halting, his mind met with an alarming sense of calm.

Accomplishment,

Beauty,

Satisfaction,

They were only a desperate stroke away.

 

The urge was too powerful, He just needed to feel and work and live again, desperately as he spread white, lightly patterned napkins crumpled and stained across the bench, worn down lead collided with the soft flimsy surface. The man made rushed markings across one, two, three napkins unsatisfied and tearing them to shreds. One after another pure white is turned to smudged grey images of wilted flowers that adorned the closest table, brittle books that lined a shelf in the corner and a small set of piercing eyes that used to watch over him so fondly.

 

His eyes, his nose, his mouth all sketched out on fragile pieces of paper came together with memories of Sunday dinners and walks down the sand dunes as the sun rose. Piece by piece drawings came together messy, rushed and wrong.

 

The man’s wrist ached. It wasn’t rights and no matter how hard he wished and hoped he realized he couldn’t make these tattered smudged grey squares resemble the boy he could picture so vividly in his mind. The napkin pile grew smaller, the trash pile grew larger and the pencil pressed harder and harder until the thin piece of lead snapped.

Warm, loving rays of sun peeked through the small round window hitting the man’s back making him wince at the sudden glaring light. He rose quickly from the lop-sided stool and the pencil he once gripped for dear life was heard crashing the ground. Turning on his heel the man wearily grabbed the small door handle, twisting violently open and suddenly a bell could be heard reminding the man of his surroundings and for the first time he didn’t care.

 

His feet were hit with rock after rock then warm sand, which began to fill every crevice in his worn down shoes. He winced, removed his shoes then continued forward toward the now calm, quiet ocean as it hit his ankles, his calves then his stomach. Soon the darkness that surrounded his body was forgotten and thoughts, overwhelming.

 

I wonder if when I looked at him he knew how much I loved his every being and I wonder if he understood that when I laid my head upon his shoulder everything was okay just for that moment and that time would have stood still just for us, and as I try to understand my unfathomable affection and it’s place in this cruel universe of unknowns I wonder how he didn’t comprehend my enchantment with him, hidden poorly behind the pristine bench tops and quiet mornings.

 

And as his cold glare dissolved into a feeling of content nostalgia the water slowly began to wash away the coffee stain, which were once engrained into his hands.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys, I don't usually write but this is a piece I wrote for a creative assessment last year and I thought it would be a waste to bury it away with all of my other school work. I am currently temporarily bedridden with an injured neck so i thought it was time to adjust it and finally post it somewhere, I hope it's somewhat decent!


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